


God is Watching

by Enternal



Category: Overlord - Maruyama Kugane & Related Fandoms, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: !Quirk Earth, Ainz is OP, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Cannon compliant, Crack Crossover, Crossover, Gen, Kinda, New world is Earth, What else is new?, crackfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-02-27 20:44:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18746767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enternal/pseuds/Enternal
Summary: Crackfic where Momonga winds up in the My Hero verse instead of the new world, and he arrives alone, with his staff in hand.What will happen when the Ruler of Death appears in Japan?





	1. Japan but not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning.

Momonga suddenly sits up, looking around in confusion. He is sitting in a bush along a paved road, with neatly trimmed grass on either side.

_What the..?_

He looks down at his bony hands and flexes them, then up at the clear blue sky. Bird song carries over from a small patch of trees behind him, and he smells the pleasant scent of fresh grass. 

_Did they delay the shutdown? Where am I?_

Momonga pulls himself up, noting the staff of Ainz Ooal Gown in his hand. A gentle breeze blows, tossing the ends of Momonga’s grand cloak this way and that. Momonga scratches his chin as he looks around.

The road going left ends at a large domed building, with a schoolbus parked in front of it. To his right the road stretches and curves into the distance. 

Something is wrong. Something is off. Momonga raises a bony hand to access the menu, but nothing happens.

_What are the devs doing? Is this some kind of cruel joke?_

_Force quit, Call GM, nothing is working. It’s like..._

Momonga can feel his confusion start to morph into panic. He again examines his surroundings, trying desperately to figure out what is so wrong with where he is. 

Then it hits him like a bullet train.

 

_I can smell._

 

He drops the staff of Ainz Ooal Gown and his jaw.

_No DMMORPG on the market has scent. Not only is the technology to have scent nonexistent, but it’s outlawed. To protect players from thinking it’s actually reality. Then why...?_

His panic approaches the breaking point, but just before he screams his fear to the void, it disappears. His jaw slowly closes.

  _Punette Moe would be ashamed of me, losing my cool like that. I just need to calmly assess what has happened._

 

_I was was sitting on the Throne of Kings waiting for the forced log off, then, I’m sitting in a bush. So my location was forcibly changed by some unknown force._

_I can smell, and looking around, this grass does not seem to be pixels. In addition, I can feel the breeze flowing through the holes in my head. So it would be impossible for this to be a game. And yet.._

Momonga looks down, opening his robe. His fleshless ribs and sternum greet him, along with the jewel floating where his stomach would be.

_If this is not a game, how do I function?_

 

* * *

 

 

After a few minutes of experimenting, Momonga has learned a few things.

 

This can’t possibly be a game.

His body makes no sense, at all.

In this strange place his magic still works, like a muscle he never knew he had. His spells and all their data, from cool down time to area of effect, are instinct to him.

His inventory is still there.

 

All these combined, convince Momonga that he isn’t helpless, but he needs to figure out what has happened, and why. He needs to learn just where he is.

 

As Momonga ponders his next step, a figure appears, sprinting with great speed out of the domed building. 

The figure is garbed in armor that can only be described as Gundam meets medieval Knight, without a helmet. As the figure nears,  Momonga can see it is a young man, likely Japanese, wearing glasses and a look of utter desperation.

_Perhaps this young man can tell me where I am? Though he seems to have troubles of his own. Perhaps a trade?_

Momonga waves his hand and casts a quick (and tier 4, so weak), appraisal spell. The results appear in his mind directly, and make his nonexistent brow furrow.

Name:Iida Tenya

Age:15

Quirk:Engine

Occupation:Student

Fighting style: Close combat

Estimated level: 12

 

_Quirk? Estimated level? What is this?_

Momonga is lost in thought until the young man, Iida, takes notice of him and yelps. He trips and skids a moderate distance along the ground, ending in a heap.

Momonga takes a few steps to reach him and offers a hand as the young man starts to rise. 

“Hello, my name is Momonga. I was hoping to strike a deal with you.”

Iida stares at him for a few seconds, before slowly pulling himself to his feet. Ignoring the offered hand.

”I don’t strike deals with villians.” He says, backing up a few steps. Momonga lets his hand fall and cocks his head to the side.

”What makes you accuse me of being a villain?” Momonga asks, inwardly wondering if this boy could possibly know of Ainz Ooal Gown.

”Are you saying you are not?” Iida asks, before shaking his head. “I don’t have time for this! My class is in mortal danger!” 

“Perhaps I could help you, all I would ask for my help-“ Iida cuts him off, dashing down the road. Momonga stands there a few moments before looking toward the domed building.

 

”Mortal danger he says.” Momonga remarks, stroking his chin.  _I could go and lend my assistance anyway? Someone is bound to be grateful and agree to answer some questions. I can appraise from afar and if the foes appear to troublesome I can simply seek help elsewhere._

 

With his course of action decided, Momonga utters a quick,

”Fly” 

before rushing into the sky toward the domed building.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Aizawa Shouta has had an awful day. The worst part of it though? Getting pinned to the ground while stopping some raving villain from melting Asui’s face off with his quirk.

He honestly wasn’t sure how he was still conscious, raw stubbornness probably. Asui didn’t seem to be able to move at the moment, Midoriya and Mineta frozen in the same terror.

”You’re so cool Eraserhead,” the villain mocks with a grinning voice. His visible eye raises to the creature that pinned Aizawa, a horrible wall of muscle with onyx flesh, a beak, and an exposed brain.

“Finish him.” The villain orders. Aizawa feels the hand gripping his head flex, and then he is falling through the air.

”-ortation!” He hears, as something arrests his fall, catching him. He can barely move he is so injured. He can feel the arm holding him shift slightly. Looking to his rescuer he beholds a grinning skull, with unnatural spikes and ridges decorating it. Giving it a wholly evil appearance.

The skull turns to him and he realizes he is dead. For he is staring into the burning eyes of death itself.

“Are you alright?” Death asks with concern in his tone. Aizawa has no answer. Death studies him for a moment and then reaches his hand, made entirely of bone, into an apparent rift in space. He pulls a small bottle filled with a red liquid from the rift and the rift closes as his hand retracts.

Death studies the potion for a moment before nodding and uncorking it.

”Here,” He says, offering the opened bottle to Aizawa. “Drink.”

Who is he to refuse Death? Aizawa takes the potion with a barely functional arm and brings it to his mouth, and begins slowly drinking. 

 ~~~~~~~~_Death is strange._

After downing the bottle Aizawa feels the arm of Death drop him, and he nimbly lands before realizing he was critically injured just a moment before.

”My name is Momonga.” Death speaks, with a deep baratone that is both regal and intimidating. “What is the cause for this conflict?” He asks. And only then does Aizawa look again to the battlefield.

 

All combat has ceased. The remaining villains and his students all staring dumbly at ‘Momonga’. The mist villain has eyes the size of saucers and seems to have shrunk into himself. Shigaraki has his head cocked to the side, an unreadable expression hidden beneath his hand-mask.

Of his three students present, two are gaping at the mysterious Momonga while the third seems to have fainted, a look of terror on his purple-mask clad face.

The nomu is where it was before, it’s hand plunged into the ground where Aizawa’s head had been a few seconds ago. It’s expression is slightly different than it was. Though the facial expression is the same, it’s eyes are firmly locked on Momonga and a look of nigh desperation can be seen past the sheer madness in its gaze.

”Well? Isn’t anyone going to answer my question? You do not fight without cause, do you?” Momonga repeats.

”You look really cool, but you are in our way.” Shigaraki geastures to him with one hand, and violently scratches his neck with the other. The nomu heeds the order and a moment later is flying at Momonga.

Momonga is struck in the skull with all of the nomu’s strength, but remains unmoved. Aizawa breaks out of his daze as the nomu begins raining blows down on Momonga. He sprints to his students, feeling better than he has in years.

Shigaraki meets him part way and makes a grab for him, but feeling fully rested and better than he has felt in years, Eraserhead is a very different animal. With a few swings of his damaged capture weapon, Shigaraki is sent flying headfirst into the ground, bound and shouting. He disappears into a portal and Aizawa makes it to his shell-shocked students.

”What are you standing there for!” He shouts, lifting the unconscious Mineta with an arm. “Get moving!” He shoves Mineta into Asui’s arms and turns again to Shigaraki and the mist villain.

Both are staring at the nomu, who is still raining bone-shattering blows on a bored looking Momonga. Or at least Aizawa thinks bored looking, hard to tell.

Just then a mighty crash sounds from the door to the USJ. And in steps a certain figure.

 

**”DO NOT FEAR”**

 

Aizawa lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The nomu ceases its punching, both it and Momonga turning to the unexpected arrival.

 

**“WHY?”**

The students cheer loudly, the joy and relief audible in their voices. Momonga completely turns his back to the nomu and waves his hand.

”Hoh.” He mutters, hand on chin. “Interesting.”

 

**”BECAUSE I AM HERE.”**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fic. Please let me know what you think! Had this idea rolling around in my head for quite some time.


	2. Things to do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Momonga gets an idea of what’s going on. Totally.  
> (He doesn’t)

All might is not happy. In fact, he feels more angry than he has in years. The ache in his side is almost forgettable given his current rage.

He glances about, surveying the battlefield. A smattering of students are on the stairs, looking to him with wet eyes. The prone form of Thirteen catches his eye for a moment, before he looks further down.

Aizawa looks up at him with an unreadable expression. His successor and Asui, towing an unconscious Mineta, are halfway up the stairs. Worry painting Midoriya’s face and relief on Asui’s.

The villians are another story. A man covered in hands stares at him with barely restrained glee, while a man made of black mist swirls behind him. A monster made of onyx muscle with a beak stares up at him, it’s fist raised mid punch at...

 

at....

 

All might’s breath catches in his throat as he beholds the undead Momonga, a thousand thoughts pass through his mind as he rushes to Aizawa’s side. 

“What’s the situation?” He asks, his eyes not leaving the two more monstrous individuals. Momonga’s head follows him, a bony hand on his chin. All Might has difficulty looking into the skull’s burning eyes, so he examines the robe, seemingly crafted from darkness itself, to the strange serpentine staff that suddenly appeared in it’s right hand.

 

”The students are scattered around the USJ,” Aizawa replies, a strange look in his eye. “Handsy here is the ringleader, the mist-man is a warper and the bird monster is a problem.”

”And the.. skeleton?” 

“I-I....” Aizawa’s voice fails him, and his eyes flash with something akin to fear. This disturbs All might to a tremendous degree. Never before has he seen his colleague lose composure. 

“All might! The final boss is here at last.” The hand villian declares, striding forward like some kind of demented performer, childish glee radiating off of him. He begins to speal his grand design, followed by more nonsense. All Might tunes him out until the beaked monster shifts position. “Nomu, kill All Might.” Handsy finishes.

All Might has but a second to brace himself before the nomu is upon him. 

* * *

 

Aizawa has had a strange day, he has never been a religious man, but he can’t help but offer a silent prayer as Momonga approaches him.

”Who is that man?” He asks, Aizawa takes a few seconds to respond, glancing at Midoriya and Asui, who are climbing the stairs in earnest.

”That’s All Might, the number 1 hero.” Momonga strokes his chin again, his jaw opens, then shuts. A few moments pass in awkward silence, with the fight between All Might and the nomu blazing in the center of the area. 

“How about we cut a deal.. ah, I realize I have not asked your name.” The skeleton raises a hand to his mouth and *coughs*.

”I am Momonga,” he declares, reaching out a hand. Aizawa stares at it in confusion before realizing it’s for a handshake.

”Aizawa Shota.” He answers with some hesitation. The skull grins at him and he slowly reaches out to shake the hand. When he does it seems as if Momonga smiles. Despite clearly not doing so.

”Well then, Aizawa. I would like to cut a deal with you.” The handshake falls and Shouta is inwardly cursing.

 

_Shit! Shit! Shit! What is the best choice? Is this Momonga a devil? A man? If he doesn’t know All Might he...._

_I shouldn’t..._

_..._

_What other choice do I have? I get the feeling if I refuse I’ll die._

 

”What manner of deal?” Aizawa settles on asking. 

_He shouldn’t be angered by explaining the deal right? He has been pleasant so far. Despite his appearance. Is this a quirk? How did he get here? He seems to have no knowledge on the situation._

Aizawa looks to the side where the nomu is trading blows with All Might, more than holding his ground. The same nomu that had been wailing on a Momonga who seemed almost bored at the time.

_I should cooperate, try and keep this, Momonga, pleased for now._

"The manner of deal is simple. You see, I find myself somewhat of a stranger in a strange land. For your part, I would simply like to ask you some questions.”

_Doable, but strange. A stranger in a strange land? What does he mean? Is he not from Japan? His japanese is more than fluent, no accent, a native speaker then._

_Then why?_

”For mine, well, I could do away with that Nomu fellow over there? Perhaps rescue the students?” Momonga says nonchalantly, as if discussing buying groceries or taking out the trash.

They look over after a particularly loud shout from All Might, they see him try and suplex  the nomu into the ground. Only for a portal to open and compromise All Might instead.

All Might looses a cry of pain as fingers dig into his side, drawing blood. Aizawa is torn between leaping in to aid the number one, or stay and attempt to pacify the most dangerous person in the building.

”Looks like he is losing,” Momonga presses, “Doesn’t he look like he could use a hand? I would be happy to help you know.”

Aizawa looks again to Momonga, seeing the flames dancing in his eyes. Aizawa swallows thickly, before nodding.

”If you can save All Might and deal with the nomu, after this ordeal is done, I will answer your questions.”

The flames burning in the skull’s empty sockets brighten for a moment, and Momonga returns the nod. 

“Forced teleportation.” He intones, and All Might falls to the ground next to Aizawa. 

The nomu shrieks it’s rage and dashes toward All Might, who has has yet to even begin pulling himself from the ground. Momonga anticipated this, and swings his staff with a resounding  _THWAK._

Aizawa watches with some measure of wonder as the nomu is sent crashing into the fountain from the force of the blow, the wind sheer from the blow makes him stagger and nearly fall.

”I will now be your opponent.” Momonga declares, striding forward. Blood dripping from the serpent heads on the end of his staff.

”Who even are you!?” The man covered in hands shrieks, fingers drawing blood from his own neck and he violently scratches. “We are here to kill All Might! Not get side sidetracked by some mini boss!”

Momonga seems to slow at the phrase ‘miniboss’ but then continues on, a mirthless laugh falling from his jaw.

”Only a miniboss? Why, quite frankly, I’m insulted.” Momonga declares, a hand on his chest. 

“Me? A miniboss? No, child, you have it wrong.” The nomu bursts from the ruined fountain, somehow looking no worse for wear. Momonga glances back and waves down the approaching form of All Might. 

He pulls another red potion from thin air and throws it at All Might, who deftly catches it. 

“Please go rescue the students, I have this covered well enough I think.” Momonga tells him. Aizawa approaches All Might.

”I think that is safe to drink, it seems to have quite powerful healing properties, but Momonga is right.” All Might gives him an incredulous look and he continues.

”I’ll protect the students already gathered at the entrance, you roam the facility and start getting the rest. Let’s leave the ringleaders to Momonga, saving the students is the first priority.” All Might reluctantly nods and dashes off, leaping toward the conflagration zone. 

Aizawa watches Momonga bat the nomu back into the ruined fountain, before turning and rushing up the stairs.

”What even are you!?” Aizawa hears Handsy shout as he runs. He quickly begins to coral the confused students outside, gently carrying Thirteens’s limp body as he goes.

_As long as the students are safe, little else matters._

* * *

 

Katsuki Bakugou is not an idiot. He is loud and brash, very sure of his skill, maybe a bit overzealous at times, but not an idiot. 

Thats why he has shitty hair in a choke hold, because the moron tried to go out into the middle of that...that... _bullshit._

Because that’s what it is, complete and utter bullshit. The motherfucking grim  _fucking_ reaper should not be here right now. But at least he can count himself lucky that the God of fucking Death seems to be on their side, for now at least.

”Bro, I can’t breathe.” Shitty hair manages to gasp from beneath him. He lets the pressure up a bit.

”Are you fucking trying to get fucking killed you fuck?” Katsuki snarls in his ear. 

The ground beneath them trembles as the God of fucking Death smacks the bird fuck down into the ground beneath him instead of into the debris that was a fountain a minute ago.

He watches as the God of fucking Death starts to float into the air.  _Because why the fuck not?_ He then puts the gorey staff he had been holding into a rift in space and points a single finger down, pointing at the pulped bird fuck. Who is rapidly de-pulping himself.

The God of fucking Death then says something, the deep baritone reaches his ears, but Katsuki can’t process it as he watches a dragon made of lighting form on the God’s shoulder. The dragon seems to coil around his arm before rushing down and springing at the nearly recovered bird fuck. The bird fuck shrieks so loudly the noise is deafening, and the light show nearly blinding.

* * *

 

Katsuki watches the bird fuck disintegrate into dust. Then registers an impact behind him. He turns and sees All fucking Might standing there.

“Let’s get you two out of here.” He proudly states, scooping them both up with one arm. He sees Icyhot tucked under All fucking Might’s other arm.

He registers some movement, and then he is being set down by the entrance to the USJ.

”That’s everyone.” He hears Sensei say behind him. Ushering Shitty hair and Icyhot out of the USJ. He glares at Katsuki to follow but Katsuki ignores him. Turning instead to All fucking Might.

”Hey All Might?” He asks with more calm in his voice than there has been in years. All fucking Might turns to him with an eyebrow raised.

“Yes young Bakugou?” All fucking Might responds as they both watch the misty fuck pull the handsy fuck through a portal. The handsy fuck having some sort of tantrum as he goes.

The God of Fucking Death turns and begins flying toward them, looking around appraisingly.

 

”What the fuck.”


	3. The Ambition of (Not a) God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Momonga actually gets an idea of what’s going on. (Sorta kinda)

Momonga lands at the entrance of the massive building, with three figures regarding him. Aizawa, All Might, and a blond haired youth with spiked hair and red eyes.

He locks eyes with the boy and waves his hand, casting the same appraisal spell he had on Iida. He absorbs the information (Noting the level of 20) and turns to the two adults. Who both look rather tense, for some strange reason.

“It would seem this disturbance has reached its end.” He says, staring at the two men. He scrutinizes All Might another moment.

”You never drank that potion.” All Might flinches slightly.

”I had no need of it.” 

“Hoh? Are you sure?” Momonga eyes him closer.  _I know you are wounded, but now that I think about it, perhaps that potion would not be sufficient to repair such a wound._

Momonga nods to himself.

_It behaves more like a permanent condition/effect than a simple wound. I possess items to cure such things but they are much less in number than those cheap, low level healing potions._

The boy, Bakugou, seems to have had enough and staggers away, before dashing through the open door. A cadre of people enter as he dashes out. 

A cowboy, a radio host, a rock golem in clothing, some strange man with a large mouth and peg legs, what might pass for a vampire, a small rat-bear thing, and a..

A dominatrix. 

_What the hell?_

Momonga decides to ignore them and looks at Aizawa.

”I believe we had a deal? I have upheld my part of the bargain, Aizawa.” Momonga gestures to the man. In response the eyes of all present (aside from Momonga and the man in question) widen in horror. 

”Shouta! What kind of deal have you made! Did you summon the God of Death!?” The radio host cries, dashing forward and clutching Aizawa’s arm.  _I am not the God of Death. But do I correct them? Perhaps not, if the number one hero is a measly level 45. Of course that's assuming the hero ranking is synonymous with strength. And maybe it's not as inaccurate as I think, my title is 'Ruler of Death'. To a normal person I very well may be a god._ That thought makes him pause.  _I wield the power of Momonga, my avatar. In game I was level 100, wearing all divine gear, and I am holding the staff of Ainz Ooal Gown, which is a diet world item essentially. Maybe I should hold back from exposing the extent of my power? But in a world this weak would It even matter? My damage immunity passive has yet to be breached, it would take a spell of 7th tear or higher, or an equivalently strong warrior to bypass it._

Inwardly thinking of his position in this new world, Momonga studies all the ‘heroes’ present, casting his appraisal spell again and again. _They are all so weak, 20s all around. That All Might fellow was leagues stronger than these people._  He fails to notice the looks of horror he receives and how frightened each hero becomes when his gaze lands upon them. As if under the scrutiny of a mighty predator.

_Their profession is ‘hero’, all of them. How curious there is such a world, where heroism is a job. The ‘villains’ job status had been appraised as ‘unemployed’. Well, except for the bartender._

 

_Ah I can’t drink, can I?_

_Or eat.. or sleep!_

While Momonga has an internal crisis, he completely tunes out the hero teachers around him.

* * *

 

“Shouta what did you do!” Nemuri hisses, trying to maintain her persona while the apparent God of Death seems to be judging their very souls. Waving a hand as he examines each person.

”Later, Midnight. I need to uphold my end of the bargain.” Aizawa whispers back, only a mild tremor in his voice. He hopes Momonga, who is currently judging the soul of Nedzu, didn't hear him. Most of the teachers stay back, far too intimidated to come closer unless absolutely necessary. Most, but not Nedzu, who calmly walks to Aizawa and scrambles up to his shoulder.

”What manner of deal was made?” He calmly asks. Aizawa opens his mouth and closes it a few times before anything comes out.

”He wanted to ask some questions, I don’t know what questions. He called himself a stranger in a strange land, and in return for answering his queries he would deal with a monstrous villain the ringleaders brought with them.” Nedzu hums. ”A villain that went toe to toe with All Might, and was winning, I should add. There is nothing left of it” All Might grunts an affirmative then breaks away from the group.

”I’m going to head back to campus.” He says as he goes.  _His time limit was already up, he better get back to campus. I wonder if that mysterious 'potion' would have done anything for his wound?_ Aizawa does not voice this however, and instead looks again at Momonga, who has been quietly staring at them for a few minutes. Taken by a sudden panic, he realizes he never answered Momonga's question.

”Yes, I’ll uphold my end.” Momonga’s ‘eyes’ seem to break from some manner of trance and brighten. The dancing flames searing deep into Aizawa’s psyche. 

”Actually,” A small and squeaky voice pipes up from Aizawa’s shoulder. “Would it trouble you if I were to answer your questions?” Momonga regards Nedzu for a few moments.

”I do not mind.” He responds. Looking around he asks "Here?" Nedzu shakes his head.

"Certainly not, its proper to entertain guests in one's office, no?" Momonga nods and follows along. Aizawa woodenly turns and begins marching out of the building. Nedzu has turned around and begun a back and forth with Momonga from Aizawa's shoulder. He makes every effort to ignore them. _I just need to walk to Nedzu's office like this, no problem._  As he continues the people part before him like the red sea. If the sea were terrified students and first respondents. Wide eyes and open mouths greet the being behind him _Nedzu's office is across campus._ He realizes with a grimace.  _We will have to ride there._

As that thought resounds in Aizawa's mind, he hears,

"Mass Fly." Intoned behind him, and suddenly the rat-bear-thing on his shoulder is gone. He spins around to see Momonga and Nedzu rising into the air. Momonga looking like a specter of death sent to reap them all, and Nedzu with more joy clear on his face than Aizawa is strictly comfortable with. "After you Mr. Principal." Momonga's regal voice sounds over the area, causing a blanket of silence from the previously muttering crowd. Nedzu soars up and away, with Momonga right behind him. 

With Momonga gone, Shouta can feel the drumming of his heart begin to still. Noise starts back up from the crowd, teachers trying to calm the students and get reports on what has happened. Present Mic and Midnight wait at the edge of the crowd, Hizashi looking as him and Nemuri looking to the sky, where Momonga's outline is fading into the distance. Aizawa walks back to the crowd and looks over his students, they all look some degree of frightened, some more than others. Bakugou approaches him suddenly, shoving past Hizashi.

"Oi, Sensei." Bakugou saddles right up to him, looking at him with a blank expression. The students and even most of the teachers look to watch the exchange. "What the fuck was that? Did you strike a deal with the God of Death to get out of that or something?" Bakugou's calm facade breaks for a fraction of a moment, but that's all Aizawa needs to see the horror in his eyes.

"No, at least, I don't think so."

"You don't _think_ so? What do you know Eraserhead?" Midnight remarks. "That was easily the most terrifying thing I have ever seen. When you walked by it was asking Nedzu inane questions like what year it was, what country we are in and so on."

"Yeah partner, just what happened in there?" Snipe asks. Aizawa shakes his head. 

"There will be an official debriefing soon enough, you are professionals." He scolds them, but even his students can probably tell there is no heart behind it. "All you need to know right now is we can, under no circumstances, make him angry."

The teachers chorus their agreement and return to their duties. Aizawa begins to make rounds checking each of his students, he slows when he approaches the group of Midoriya, Asui, Ochako, and Iida. 

 

"Whatever it was it used magic! Not a quirk, magic!" Midoriya looks to his friends with wide eyes. "I saw it teleport people  _twice_ Iida,  _twice._ " 

"That's just not possible, Midoriya. How can he have multiple quirks? We saw him fly off just now." Iida responds slowly. "I still wonder where he came from. I ran into him outside the USJ, standing by the road." Aizawa's eyes open a bit wider at this, and he finds himself eavesdropping on the conversation.

"Just, standing by the road?" Ochako asks.

"Yes. I, to my shame, tripped when I saw him. He tried to help me up and started to offer a deal to me, but I simply ran off to get reinforcements from the school." Iida's hands chop wildly about. "To think he wasn't a villain after all! I am ashamed of my rude behavior. I will have to apologize."

"You're probably dead, kero." Iida turns sharply to Asui, hand chops freezing.

"Why do you say that, Asui?" Midoriya asks, before she glowers at him. "Tsuyu I mean!" Satisfied, Tsuyu looks over to Iida.

"I'm pretty sure Iida here just snubbed the God of Death, kero. Hopefully he is the forgiving type." They all gulp a bit at that, Iida's face overcome with worry. 

"Nonsense! He is no God, merely some manner of waylaid traveler! I am sure an apology will suffice!" Iida chops the air. Midoriya starts to mumble. The three of them look to him and all quiet.  _He got a better look at what happened when the nomu injured me. I wonder what he will say._ A few moments pass before Tsuyu puts a hand on Midoriya's shoulder and shakes it a bit, bringing him back from his mumble spree. 

"He is either a God, or he might as well be one. I saw him appear out of thin air with Aizawa Sensei falling into his arms, when he had just been beneath the nomu." Ochako and Iida glance to each other, worry on their faces. "So he has some kind of teleportation for sure. Maybe invisibility? I didn't see him at all until Aizawa Sensei was falling into his arms. He made Sensei drink this red liquid, and suddenly all his wounds were gone." Aizawa becomes a little less obvious with his eavesdropping as other students and teachers, now police, quiet and listen to the recounting.

"He got attacked by the nomu, and didn't even flinch, when that same nomu managed to fight with All Might." Uneasy looks all around. "Then he struck the nomu harder than All Might did, completely overcoming the nomu's shock absorption quirk and sending him flying with great force." Midoriya finishes his mumble rant. "So we know he has teleportation, maybe invisibility, he is about as strong as All Might and can heal grievous injuries in a moment." The uneasy looks turned to frowns, a certain blond starts to make his way over. "There was a flash of light after me and As-Tsuyu! got up the stairs and evacuated. So I'm not sure about that but-"

"It was a dragon made of lightening." 

All eyes turn now to Bakugou, Aizawa's more curious than fearful because he saw it too.

"He made a dragon of fucking lightening, and it fried that, _Nomu,_ to dust." Just then Cementoss slaps a hand down on Midoriya and Bakugou's shoulders. 

 

"That's enough of that, lets get you kids home for the day. The rest of class is cancelled on account of villain attack."

* * *

 

Nemuri, Hizashi, and Aizawa sit around the the coffee table in the teachers lounge, all of them with long faces.

"Today was a shitshow" Nemuri says, leaning back in her chair. The entire ordeal had been rather short and chaotic for her. She had been in the lounge when one Iida Tenya had barged in, shouting about how the students at the USJ where under attack by villains. They had rushed to the scene as quickly as possible, only to find that the villains had been defeated, and a being of unknown and terrifying strength had solved the situation. 

"Yeah... it was." Hizashi mutters, leaning further into the couch, nuzzling into the arm of it. Shouta only grunts, nursing a cup of coffee and staring off into space, with a moderate pile of paperwork in front of him. Nemuri has been concerned for Nedzu, being alone with that thing for so long.  _No, his name Momonga, I don't want to call him an 'it' and have that reach him. Best not to even think it._ The two have been squirreled away for over five hours, and that would concern Nemuri but she is well aware of how long winded her boss is.

"Do you think Momonga is going to be prosecuted for killing the nomu? Technically he is a vigilante right?" Hizashi murmurs from the couch. 

"I don't think so." Nemuri answers. "Someone stronger than All Might is going to be given a bit of leeway." She ponders for a moment before looking to Shouta. "Say, does your quirk even work on him?"

"No, or at least, I don't think so. I tried but it didn't feel like it did anything." He shrugs. "That lends credence to the theory that whatever he has, it isn't a quirk." Nemuri frowns in response.

"Then what could even keep him contained? What is to stop him from rampaging about?"

"Not wanting to?" Shouta offers with a shrug.

"That, that can't be enough." Nemuri holds her hands to her face.

"It's gonna have to be."

"Where did he come from?" Hizashi asks.

"If his word is to be believed, thin air." Shouta sinks into the couch, looking very much like he hasn't slept in the past several days, which is actually better than average for him. "We have no idea where he came from, or why. I don't think he does either. Hopefully Nedzu can figure something out." Nemuri settles herself deeper into her arm chair, feeling the weight of her own exhaustion. 

"So all we can do is wait?" She murmurs, falling deeper into her drowsiness. She fails to suppress a yawn and checks the clock on the wall.  _3:00._ She pulls her jacket over her.

"Seems like it." Hizashi yawns, slumping more completely against the arm of the couch.

"You'll let us know if something happens right Shouta?" 

"Yeah, I'll keep on eye out." He answers with a pen in his mouth, looking just a bit more frustrated than tired now.

"Thank youuuu...." Nemuri barely audibly whispers, falling asleep.

"No problem."

* * *

 

Some minutes pass in silence, Shouta filling out what little remained of his backlog of paperwork. _I haven't felt this well rested since middle school._ Putting his pen down, he decides to refill on coffee. After all, even if he is wide awake, he likes the taste. After walking to the small kitchenette in the teacher's lounge, he pours another cup of the life giving drink. Raising it up he takes a long pull, shutting his eyes.

Opening them, he finds himself in Nedzu's office. Looking around quickly, he sees the only people present are Nedzu and Momonga. He can see a small crystal orb upon the desk, alongside a pot of tea and an empty cup. The form of Momonga sends a shiver up his spine, and when he turns to look at Shouta, the feeling gets worse.

"It worked." Nedzu nods. "Just as you said it would."

"Of course." The regal voice of Momonga cuts the air. Shouta's confusion is great enough all he can do is stand there and wait. _They really don't pay me enough for this._

"With that, the last of our joint tests are complete, and I am completely satisfied with your capabilities." Nedzu declares to Momonga. Shouta can see a sheen of sweat normally never present on the principal's usually perfectly groomed fur. "What do you say to my offer, Momonga?" Nedzu's behavior is almost alien, never before has he sounded so _desperate_. Shouta can feel a sense of dread rising in the pit of his gut. _This will not be good._ He also turns to Momonga to hear the answer.

 

"I accept!" The undead proudly declares, his voice loudly reverberating around the room. "As long as you continue to aid me, I shall return the favor. You scratch my back I scratch yours, yes?" Momonga reaches out a bony hand to the diminutive principal, who takes it in a slightly shaking paw.

"Wonderful!" Nedzu responds with gusto. "Then as of this moment you shall be a substitute teacher for the business course, and an assistant teacher for the hero course. At least until I can find you a way back home." Both nod and Shouta can feel his already tiring life get so incredibly much worse.


	4. Musings of a God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Momonga takes a walk.

The moon shines down on Mustafu, a warm night. The streets are mostly empty and shops are closed. Street lamps dimly illuminate the sidewalk and a small business blasts some kind of music. Faint pulses of bass reverberate through Momonga's bones as he strolls down the road.

He watches as a pair of drunks stumble out of the building. One looks normal, a suit, and short black hair. The other boggles Momonga's mind. The man has stalks leaving his forehead and his skin is green. The two walk almost through Momonga as he quickly slides out of the way.  _Perfect Unknowable is such a useful spell._ Momonga thinks to himself, watching the drunks stumble home.  _I'm utterly invisible to all five senses, and I doubt there is anyone here that can penetrate my magic._ Thinking on that particular thought, Momonga chides himself.  _No, there very well may be, this isn't **my** Japan. Though it is close. These 'quirks' represent a variable I cannot account for. From what Principle Nedzu said, they can be literally anything, which both fascinates and intimidates me. _

"Fly."

He utters unheard, and begins to ascend into the sky. He rises twenty some feet off the ground and begins to follow the road east, making his way toward his destination. He follows his memory, remembering this area as near his home. It looks similar, but so different. The massive skyscrapers that were the staple of his home are present, but at less than half their height. Shops that he remembered seem to be where he remembers them, but the brands are all different. A corporate food stand selling ramen now looks to be a family run stall, closed for the night. The similarities are uncanny and somewhat disturbing. The architecture is different is subtle ways and the street is clean. The permanent smog that forever cursed his own Japan was absent, and in its place was crisp and fresh night air.

But the biggest difference is the sky. Looking up, Momonga can see the stars. Marred by light pollution sure, but they are visible.  _Amazing._

Momonga reaches the end of his journey and looks down on a mere two story building. He finds himself profoundly disturbed, where his home once was there is a convenience store.

Landing, Momonga reaches into space. He pulls out a single gold coin. His spell 'Perfect Unknowable' fades, and he steps into the shop.

"Gahh!" A middle aged man shouts, tripping from where he has been mopping the floor. He stares up at Momonga with fear and confusion a moment before he shakes his head. He slowly rises to his feet as Momonga begins to browse.

"S-Sorry about that!" The man sputters.

Momonga hums where he stands, looking over a magazine. _Here's that All Might fellow again._ "It's quite alright." He mutters, engrossed in the magazine. Taking it from the shelf, Momonga leans against the wall, flipping it open. The fire in his eyes ignites as he reads the word 'hero' many, many times.  _A hero based culture? Interesting._

 

* * *

 

 

A man levitates down the road, his head hung as he recalls the jeers he just received from a few drunks. Asamu is his name, and in that moment he has never resented his body more.  _Why did I have to be born with such a quirk?_ He laments, looking to where his torso ends a few feet above the ground. He was gifted with a moderately powerful telekinesis quirk, and he has a minor quirk permit that allows its use in one regard. To travel. Because Asamu has no legs. 

_Damn it all._

He had left work earlier to taunts and jeers from his coworkers for his rather abnormal quirk, as he usually does. Small little jokes that the bastards probably thought were harmless.  _'Oh Asamu! I can't blame you for not getting that merger through, it's not like you had a leg to stand on!' Bastards._

He mutters and grumbles to himself as he floats down the road, the liquor in his system incensing him further.  _How dare they! How dare they openly mock me like that! I didn't choose this!_ He whines. His hand slowly pulls a syringe from his coat pocket, a gift from an old stranger with a bushy white mustache. He palms it and furiously squeezes it, hating his quirk, hating his work, and hating himself.  _Trigger, huh?_

 

"Maybe I should use it." He quietly remarks, popping off the cap. He pulls his collar down and to the side, and for a moment reconsiders, before the liquor takes his mind and he jams the needle home.

Immediately he feels fire in his blood, and the surrounding dirt lifts of its own accord. Asamu is struck dumb for a moment, watching all the small objects; rocks, stones, dirt, begin to rise into the air. Then it strikes home that its **his** quirk doing it. A vicious smile tears across his face as he focuses his quirk on a nearby car, and he openly laughs as it rises into the air with almost no effort.  _This is amazing!_ He focuses more on the car, willing his quirk to activate in a way it never has before. The small car drops to the ground, then begins to press into it. Putting more effort in, he watches as the car begins to buckle, the tires pop, and the glass cracks.

He grins an open mouth smile as he puts in even more effort. He is rewarded with the car unleashing a large groan before being utterly crushed into the ground. Debris flies his way, but it stops several feet in front of him and drops harmlessly to the ground.  _I'm invincible!_

"Woooooo!!!" He cheers, admiring his handiwork. Looking around he sees the drunks that harassed him staring in horror. 

"That's right you bastards! You won't mock a villain now will you?!" The drunks scream and stumble away, falling flat on their faces. "Ha! Serves you right!" he watches them scramble away in terror and feels his inhibitions fall away from him, the trigger taking him to a primal place of Id. 

 

_I can do anything, anything I want._

 

Looking around, he spies a convenience store.  _My pockets are rather light. Why shouldn't I fill them up?_ He begins to make his way toward it, small rocks and other debris lifting into the air and being flung away as he goes. He reaches the door and wills it to slam open. The door tears open and is ripped off its hinges. He cackles as the door flies off and careens somewhere behind him. A crash is heard, and he is rewarded with the sound of a car alarm blaring into the night. He floats into the store and looks around. A single large customer is engrossed in a magazine leaning against the wall, and the clerk is regarding him with wide eyes filled with fear.

He grins madly and dashes through the air to the clerk.

"I'd like what's in that register, why don't you hand it over?" He asks with a musical tilt to his voice, the madness seeping through. 

"I-I don't...I-I'll...you..." The clerk stammers, his hands flailing about. Asamu scowls at him, and lets his quirk out completely. Everything in the shop tears off the ground, the clerk himself letting out a shout as he begins to spin madly in the air.

"Oh never mind, I'll just get it myself!" He shouts, floating around the counter, he tears the register from its place and rips it clean in half. The money within flutters about, and he catches it with his quirk before it can hit the ground. He giggles madly as the currency collects in his palm.

"What a disgraceful display." A deep baritone sounds behind him. He spins around to see the lone customer in the shop regarding him.

 

Everything stops, all the items ripping around the shop fall to the ground. The clerk lets out an undignified cry as he falls on his back.

 

_W-What..?_

 

The fire in his blood freezes as he beholds a grinning skull, looming down at him. A blaze like the end of days regards him coolly. The eyes of this God of Death peering into the darkest corners of his soul. His hand finds his heart as he palms his chest fearfully, trying to assure himself he still ranks among the living.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself, for this shameful display?" Death asks him, and Asamu has no answer.

The fire the trigger lit in his blood is raging. But it is smothered beneath a glacier of mortal terror. He sinks down and comes to rest on the counter. His eyes are entirely unable to leave the burning pit of oblivion that holds them in rapture and the cash falls from his grasp. The store is silent but for the wailing of a car alarm outside. The cloak that he now sees is beyond magnificent rises of its own accord, and he feels a weight settle down on his form. Crushing his soul and rendering him unable to draw breath.

All rational thought escapes him and he knows if he does not appease this being, he will die.

"I'm..I'm sorry.." He whispers through the force holding his being captive, and the force lessens.

"You're sorry, for robbery?" Death asks. All Asamu can answer with is a barely perceptible nod. Death regards him a moment longer and then turns away, to the clerk. 

"How much do you think this man just cost you?" Asamu can hear Death ask, but his whole being is focused on the task of remaining conscious, and he does not hear the answer. "Oh, villain insurance? Well that's good. Then I will take my leave."

Death turns again to him, and Asamu finds himself held hostage once more by the dancing flames within the eyes of the skull. "You will remain so the police can collect you, wont you?" He asks, and Asamu nods. 

"You aren't lying to me, are you?" Asamu struggles to find his voice.

"No, I'll stay." He near whispers in a faint voice. Death regards him a moment longer before nodding.

"Good." He then takes a gold coin and places it on the counter next to Asamu. He nods to the clerk. "For the magazine." He says, holding it up. Asamu falls over as the God of Death turns and walks out of the store. His eyes follow the god until he waves a hand through the air and vanishes.

With the threat to his life and soul gone, Asamu takes a deep breath.

And promptly faints. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Please leave a comment and let me know what you think!


	5. Observing the Lack of Restraint

Aizawa slowly walks down the hall. His every footstep leaden with the desire to turn around and go back the way he had come. The time is 6 AM monday morning and he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep the previous night. His destination is the newly claimed office near Recovery Girl’s clinic, the office of one Momonga. He sighs deeply as he reaches the door and lifts his hand to knock.

* * *

  
  


Late in the night following the USJ, he had been sitting in the lounge sipping coffee, keeping the sleeping forms of his colleagues company. He was trying to modify the next exercise his class was going to do, to accommodate the additional hero studies teacher.  _ If I can even call Momonga that, anyway.  _ As he had been working, he was quite surprised to see Momonga open the door to the lounge and walk in. Momonga had the latest copy of ‘Hero Digest’ up to his face, and lowered it when he saw Aizawa.

 

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Momonga asked with what would  _ surely _ have been a raised brow, if he had one. Aizawa took a long pull from his mug and set it down.

 

“No, I need to restructure the next foundational hero studies course for my class, seeing as we have a new teacher.” Momonga walked up to the couch opposite the one holding the passed out forms of Hizashi and Nemuri. He sat down and laid his magazine on the table.

 

“I see. To accommodate myself, then. Perhaps I could be of some assistance?” He asked while steepling his fingers together. “After all, I don’t believe you are aware of just what I can do.” Aizawa sucked in a breath and slowly let it out.

 

“You’re right, I don’t. That would be helpful.” If Momonga noticed Aizawa’s discomfort, he didn’t show it.

 

“I am capable of casting over 700 different spells. Some more potent than others. I can cast divining magic as well as various spells to buff one’s endurance, speed, and strength. I can cast spells of great destruction, but I doubt those would be helpful so for now I will omit those.” Momonga recounted with a wave of his hand. Aizawa felt his blood pressure rise as he took another shaky sip of his coffee. With a nod from Aizawa, Momonga continues.

 

“I can create buildings and terrain, as well as other effects. I can create a fog to obscure vision or apply a field of magic darkness that is harmless but for the impossibility of seeing through it. I can create various undead servants that are utterly bound to my will. They can serve as obstacles, opponents, perhaps even civilians?” Momonga finishes. Aizawa blinks once and nods.

 

“Those could be helpful, but what nature of ‘summons’ do you mean? Like... zombies?”

 

“I could summon zombies, but in the interest of your noses I think I shall stick to more skeletal summons. Though I can summon other beings too, such as angels or demons or even a few dragons. But those would be far too powerful for your students to fight.”

 

“Demons, angels and dragons….” Aizawa muttered as he slowly laid his head on the table before him.  _ Oh my. _

 

“Yes, though the spell to summon those is quite grand in nature, the spell circle is quite large. Those summons would be bound to my will as well, so there is no chance of them going rogue.”

 

“Lovely.” Aizawa near whispered.  _ Angels and demons?! What kind of being can summon angels and demons for fucks sake?! _ A few moments passed in silence before Aizawa raised himself and fixed Momonga with a strange look. “Tell me, are you a god?” Momonga leaned back and cocked his head to the side, resting it in his palm.

 

“That depends on your definition of ‘God’. I am powerful, and I am capable of doing a great many things that would boggle your mind, such as manipulating the weather.”   _ He can control the seasons then. He can do just about anything. The better question is, what can’t he do?  _ Aizawa’s eye twitched in response but he kept his stare up, and Momonga continued. “So perhaps in the eyes of some, but in my view a god is one who is worshiped. So by my definition I am no god.” He finished, and he reached a hand out to tap the magazine on the table.

 

“Now I have a question for you.” He asked.

 

“Go ahead.” Aizawa answered, quirking a brow at the roused forms of his colleagues.  _ They seem to be waking up. _

 

“I see your society is based largely around heroes. But the heroes here are not the heroes I know. As far as I know, the definition of hero is this.” Momonga held up a finger, leaning forward. At this, the other two teachers in the room slowly sat up, Hizashi rubbing the sleep from his eyes and Nemuri watching Momonga as he spoke. “‘The Hero, is the one who performs an extraordinary and generous act of courage, which will or may result in the conscious sacrifice of themselves to defend the good of others.’ Whereas from what I have seen, the heroes here seem to be a combination of first respondents, firefighters, and police that use quirks. Is that accurate?”

 

Nemuri and Hizashi slowly traded looks. Aizawa took a moment to consider his answer as Momonga leaned back into his seat.

 

“That, strictly speaking, is accurate. But is a firefighter not a kind of hero?” Aizawa responds.

 

“Not by dint of being a firefighter.” Was Momonga’s immediate reply. “However a firefighter is much more likely to be in a position to act heroic and become one. It seems so strange to me that something as sacred as heroes are a profession.” Aizawa mulled this over a bit and found no fault in the logic. He glanced at his colleagues and saw them each with an expression of thought.  _ I suppose 200 years ago the concept of professional heroes existed only in fantasy. _

 

“Your reasoning is sound. But most professional heroes do fall under your definition as well.” Nemuri chimed in. Momonga looked over at her.

 

“Most, but not all of them I imagine, though that is of little consequence. What I’m curious about is why you call yourselves that. How did the term ‘professional hero’ come about?”

 

The three Pro-Hero teachers proceeded to educate Momonga on the history of heroics, starting with the advent of quirks 200 years ago.

  
  
  


Presently, Aizawa’s hand knocks twice on the door before he hears a muffled “Come in”. He swings the door open and enters the room. And his eyes widen comically. The room is decorated in some of the finest luxuries he has ever seen. A rub of embroidered silk covers the floor, jet black with gold trim. The desk is made from an extremely dark material, either some dark wood or simply obsidian. The chairs before said desk are black and gold, and of a strange and ornate make that reminds him of the imperial era. Paintings of mystical and fantastical landscapes adorn the walls, with numerous portraits of strange beings interspersed among them. In the corner he can see an ornate wardrobe of similar make to the chairs.  _ He completely remodeled the place. _

 

Behind the desk sits Momonga, seated in a chair that is honestly more of a throne than a chair. Made of the same material as the desk.  _ If I ask he will surely say it’s just a chair. But I know a damn throne when I see one.  _

 

“Good morning Aizawa.” Momonga greets him with a small wave of his hand. “Is it time for me to start preparing the exercise then?” Aizawa scans the room another time before responding.

 

“Yes, I am going to lead you to the battle site. How quickly can you make those skeletons? And how long do they last?” Aizawa takes a seat in one of the chairs and nearly melts into it.  _ This is so comfy.  _ He pulls a jello pouch from his pocket and sips from it, eyeing the skeletal figure before him.  _ Momonga you are definitely not helping your ‘I’m not a god’ position. _

 

“I can make them five at a time, and I can make them every thirty seconds. I could make upwards of fifty rather easily but I doubt you need that many. They only last for about an hour, however. And I understand heroics is scheduled for near the end of the school day?”  _ He could make an army in a matter of minutes. Holy hell what am I supposed to say to that? _

 

“Yes, the class begins at 2pm. The students would be geared up and ready to start the exercise around ten minutes later.” Momonga nods and strokes his chin, and Aizawa is secretly glad he perfected his poker face years ago.

 

“The fog and other environmental spells should last about six hours, but by using extend magic I can prolong the effect to twelve hours. So we can set those up now. Have you finalized where you want all the skeletons?”

 

“I have.” Aizawa somewhat reluctantly stands from his comfy seat and motions for Momonga to follow. “I can show you where I want them. But I won’t be there for the actual class. It's taught by All Might now so he may ask exactly how they function and what to expect.”  _ Though I will be watching through the school’s security system. I can’t wait to see All Might’s face when he works with the God of Death.  _ Momonga nods as he rises from his own seat and follows after Aizawa. 

 

“I understand, I think this class will turn out wonderfully.” Momonga answers after a moment.  _ If the God of Death has high hopes, who am I to disagree? _

 

* * *

  
  


Midoriya pulls on his red boots and stands. He glances at the mirror to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid in regards to his gym uniform. Satisfied after a moments scrutiny, his thoughts turn toward the impending class.  _ All Might said we are going to do some rescue training to make up for last week, and he had a new assistant teacher to aid the class. _ His brows furrow. _ He looked so nervous, and I can only think of one thing that would make All Might  _ **_himself_ ** _ nervous. _

 

“Momonga.” Midoriya mutters to himself. Slowly falling into a mumble spree. This does not go unnoticed by one Katsuki Bakugou, who upon hearing the name and seeing Midoriya’s trait mumble spree, stalks over.

 

_ It has to be him. I’m certain the new assistant teacher is Momonga. But why? I suppose someone with that kind of power needs to be kept watch over. But is it really safe for him to be here? I suppose he never hurt any of us. He actually saved Aizawa-sensei, but does that mean he is trustworthy? Or does principal Nedzu not have any other choice? He must think that this is truly the best option then, but how will he assist All Might? Maybe his magic can do more than we have already seen. Maybe- _

 

“Ow!” Midoriya mutters quietly, his hand going to the back of his head.

 

“The fuck you mumbling about Deku? I heard ‘Momonga’.” Kacchan growls from behind him. Midoriya spins around to face Kacchan. Who has a look of anger on his face.  _ So normal then. _

 

“H-hey Kacchan. I think Momonga might be the assistant All Might-sensei was talking about.” Kacchan’s eyes widen for a moment, before he turns and stomps toward the door muttering a semi-audible “Fuck” as he leaves. Midoriya rubs the back of his head a moment longer before locking eyes with Iida.

 

“Momonga? Midoriya you can’t be serious. The school wouldn’t possibly make him an assistant teacher!” The others in the room quiet their conversations as they listen in.

 

“I think they did Iida, why else would All Might of all people look so alarmed?” Iida’s mouth opens and closes his mouth for a moment before rubbing the bridge of his nose.

 

“I really hope not. I owe him an apology but I would rather not speak with him. He is…..” Iida trails off.

 

“Terrifying?” Kaminari chimes in. Just finishing putting on his own uniform. Iida looks distinctly uncomfortable.

 

“I wouldn’t normally use that term! But yes, terrifying.” Iida reluctantly admits after a moment's thought. 

 

“Come on guys!” Sero shouts from the door, gesturing through it. “We might as well go meet that spooky, scary, skeleton man.” Midoriya nods as he walks toward the door.

  
“We shouldn’t keep All Might-sensei waiting.” He says before walking through the door himself.  _ Hopefully this goes better than last time.  _ He thinks while crossing his fingers.


End file.
